


Under Pressure

by ghostystarr



Series: not by blood, but by heart [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Minor Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, Post-Time Skip, once atsumu realizes sakusa's in love it's over for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26633329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostystarr/pseuds/ghostystarr
Summary: Hinata and Bokuto realize that perhaps, just maybe, Sakusa might show affection differently than most.  Unfortunately, it seems Atsumu is the object of such affections."Don't worry," Bokuto assures, "we're gonna teach you how to flirt with Tsumu."
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: not by blood, but by heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929478
Comments: 147
Kudos: 1492
Collections: SakuAtsu Fics for Midterm Procrastination, sakuatsu lol screaming, ♧SakuAtsu Fics♧





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sakuatsu came into my house and changed the locks. They are in there. Rent free.

Bokuto notices it shortly after Sakusa Kiyoomi is signed onto the Black Jackals.

Atsumu immediately latches himself to his side, eagerly asking about the collegiate league and whether Sakusa can still bend his wrists all the way forward. Sakusa just glares and says, “You don’t just stop being double-jointed, Miya.”

“Oh, do the thing!” Atsumu begs. “Bokkun! Hey, c’mere!”

Sakusa rolls his eyes, but he bends his wrists anyways. Bokuto loses his mind, and Sakusa seems amused at the disgusted noises Atsumu makes as he laughs. Bokuto takes one look between them and figures they must be pretty good friends.

Then Atsumu places his hands on his hips and proclaims, “Bet yer happy to finally have me as yer setter, huh, Omi-kun?”

Sakusa’s expression sours, and Bokuto swears he sees sparks flying out of his eyes. “Do _not_ call me that.”

“You guys are funny!” Bokuto laughs and walks away without catching the looks they throw at him.

Hinata notices it sometime after he joins. It takes a while for Sakusa to warm up to him, but once he does, Hinata finds he’s easy to get along with. Sakusa doesn’t talk much, though he doesn’t seem to mind if Hinata does. So, in their down time, Hinata usually plops down to regale him with old stories. “And the vice-principal’s toupee just _whoosh!_ Right on Daichi-san’s head. He was _so_ mad.”

Sakusa hums, and Hinata realizes that his attention hasn’t left the court. Atsumu is the only one still playing. He was fired up about the new server rankings earlier, and after he decided to do extra practice, Sakusa took a seat on the bench and watched. “Oh!” Hinata leans forward. “Tsumu’s serves are pretty great, huh?”

Sakusa seems startled, like he was just caught with his hand in a cookie jar, but he doesn’t respond.

“Hell, if yer both just gonna sit there, will ya at least _be quiet?”_ Atsumu barks at them. “I’m tryna concentrate over here!”

Hinata covers his mouth with one hand and raises a thumb with the other. Atsumu huffs before taking another ball out of the cart and staring at the water bottle on the other side. Hinata can see him figuring it out in his mind - the distance, the angle, the force - but when he flows into a perfectly executed jump serve, the ball misses the bottle by an inch.

“AGH! How am I gettin’ worse?!” Atsumu’s hands fly up to his hair before snatching another ball. “I’m gonna hit it next time for sure!”

Sakusa stands up after the fourth failed attempt. “Miya,” he calls, “I want to practice my spikes some more.”

Atsumu ruffles. “Yer just gonna hafta wait, Omi! I’m not done yet!”

“Yes, you are,” Sakusa insists. “You’re overthinking it.”

Atsumu pouts at the ball in his hands then - to Hinata’s amazement - his shoulders relax. “Fine. Yeah. I’ll toss.” Sakusa nods, and Hinata watches them for a while. They move like clockwork, perfectly in sync with the other’s movements. Even when Atsumu throws a toss too high on purpose, Sakusa jumps with perfect form and slams it down easily. By the time the ball cart is empty, Atsumu is smiling again and he even agrees to call it a day.

In the locker room, while Atsumu is showering, Hinata notices Sakusa waiting by the door, hands in his pockets and mask back in place. “Heading home?”

Sakusa gives a single nod.

“Cool. I’ll walk with you if you want.”

Sakusa’s eyes flicker towards the showers, and Hinata connects the dots. “Oh! We can wait for Tsumu-san, if you’re still worried.”

“I’m not.”

Hinata hangs back anyways. Sakusa doesn’t complain, which is basically an invitation coming from him. As Atsumu sings off-key in the shower, Hinata asks, “Hey, Omi-san? Why did you interrupt Tsumu’s serves? He hates that, you know.”

“I know.” Sakusa pauses for a long while before adding, “Miya is even more annoying when he’s frustrated.”

Hinata hums. “So you were trying to make him feel better?”

Sakusa doesn’t say anything, but Hinata is better at reading the crease between his eyebrows. _Omi-san is actually really nice,_ he thinks with a smile.

Akaashi notices it when he sits in on one of their practices. The rest of the team is used to his presence by now, but Bokuto wraps an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders and introduces him anyways. “Captain, Coach Foster! This is my boyfriend, Akaashi Keiji!”

Meian offers him an understanding smile. “Nice to see you again, Akaashi-san.”

Akaashi gives a small bow. “I’m sorry for intruding.”

“Not at all.” Foster waves him off. “It helps to have another perspective. You always have some good insight into our plays.”

Bokuto grins. “That’s because he’s smart!”

On the court, Atsumu plugs his ears with his fingers and scowls.

“I’m going to sit down,” Akaashi says and pats Bokuto’s cheek. “Have fun. We’ll talk later.”

“I missed you _so_ much, Akaashi!” Bokuto continues like he didn’t listen at all. “Did you get cuter? That’s, like, illegal.”

"Bokkun!" Atsumu shouts. "C’mon, man! No one can concentrate with all yer yappin’!"

"Sorry, Tsum-Tsum!"

Hinata laughs. "I think it's sweet!"

Atsumu glares at him. "This is your fault, yanno."

"Me? How?"

"Because I said so," Atsumu snaps. "Ugh. All this lovey-dovey crap makes me sick."

Sakusa glances at Atsumu. He does that often throughout the next couple hours, just enough for Akaashi to raise an eyebrow.

The next time Akaashi crashes practice, he sees Sakusa quietly produce a pair of earplugs. "All your squawking is irritating," Sakusa explains to a surprised Atsumu, "so just block it out and play the game."

Atsumu scoffs. “Yeah, but then I’m not gonna be able to hear anything. That’s gonna mess with my tosses.”

Sakusa doesn’t falter. “I’ll hit the ball regardless.”

“So confident, Omi-Omi.” He shrugs and puts them in. “All right. I’ll take that challenge.”

Sakusa hits every single one.

As Akaashi walks home with Bokuto, he asks, “How long have Miya-san and Sakusa-san been dating?”

Bokuto bursts into laughter. “WHAT?”

“They seem so comfortable with each other. I’ve never seen Sakusa-san like that.”

“I guess? Omi always seems angry, but really I think he just worries too much.” Bokuto blinks. “Wait. Do you actually think he likes Tsumu?”

Akaashi shrugs. “Does he act like that around anyone else?”

Bokuto considers that, rubbing his chin and shutting his eyes. “Holy shit.” He opens them. “Akaashi, I think you might be onto something.”

Akaashi knows that look. “Don’t interfere, Kou. It’s not our business.”

“No, of course not.” Bokuto nods. “I won’t say anything to anyone.”

.

“Omi likes Tsumu,” Bokuto whispers to Hinata the next morning. “Totally wants to date him.”

Hinata clasps his hands together, abruptly serious. “So you’ve noticed, too.”

Bokuto nods solemnly. “Our favorite prickly wing spiker has it bad.”

“It’s just as I feared.”

A locker slams shut. “I can hear you," Sakusa grumbles. His eye twitches in irritation. “I’m _right_ here.”

“No need to be embarrassed, Omi!” Bokuto gestures vaguely. “We’ve all been there.” Sparks fly out Sakusa’s eyes again, but Bokuto’s become immune to that expression. Instead he offers a blinding smile and crosses his arms. “So how long have you liked him?”

“Bye.”

“Omi-san!” Hinata runs ahead, throwing his arms out to block the door before Sakusa could escape. “Wait! Don’t you want to date Atsumu-san?”

Sakusa glares over his shoulder. “No thanks.”

“Why not?” Bokuto gasps and clutches his chest. “Is our Tsumu not good enough for you? Is it because Kageyama passed him in the server rankings?”

Sakusa shifts his weight onto one foot and looks away. “Of course not.”

“Wait, Bokuto-san!” Hinata raises his hands placatingly. “We gotta be sure whether he likes Atsumu or not.”

Sakusa’s shoulders fall. “Why does it matter?”

“You’re our friend? Why wouldn’t it matter?”

His gaze flickers between them. He hesitates before he answers, voice just above a whisper, “He doesn’t like me back. Can I go back to practice now?” Approaching voices from the hallway make it impossible to stop Sakusa heading for the door. Hinata ducks behind Bokuto as he passes.

“This isn’t over, Omi!” Bokuto declares and Hinata peers around him, nodding in agreement with a fist raised.

Practice passes with the usual fanfare, but Sakusa feels Bokuto and Hinata’s stares fixed on him every time Atsumu is nearby. “What’s with them?” Atsumu wonders.

“Don’t ask,” Sakusa pleads.

Of course, Atsumu seems to translate that to do exactly the opposite. “Oh? Keepin’ secrets from me, Omi-Omi? That’s so rude! And here I thought we were gettin’ close!” He tops off his whining with a big pout that Sakusa has no idea what to do with. Instead, he just manages to keep a straight face while Atsumu pushes his luck with half-lidded eyes and a sly smirk. “C’mon, Omi, tell me. Seriously.”

Later, after Atsumu gave up on his goading, Sakusa sits on the bench between Hinata and Bokuto. “Okay,” he mutters. “I’ll do it.”

“What?” Bokuto asks suspiciously.

Sakusa gives a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll,” he forces the words out of his chest, “ask him out.”

Hinata throws his hands up with such celebratory force that he ends up sliding onto the floor. Bokuto jumps to his feet. “Hey, hey, hey! Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Sakusa just leans back and out of the way as Hinata and Bokuto reach over him to high-five.

“I have no idea how,” he admits, and their attention snaps back to him.

"Don't worry," Bokuto assures, "we're gonna teach you how to flirt with Tsumu."

Sakusa’s face pinches. “I really hoped you weren’t going to say that.”

.

Sakusa is trying very hard to remember why he agreed to spend one of his very few days off standing in a public park in the middle of the afternoon. For Miya Atsumu’s sake? He really must be losing his mind. Yet there he is, fidgeting uncomfortably with his yellow windbreaker zipped all the way and hood up. Bokuto and Hinata are in front of him, looking like gym coaches with whistles and wearing tube socks to their knees. “All right!” Bokuto stretches. “Let’s do this.”

Sakusa stares wryly at them. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I do! I have a boyfriend, you know.”

He turns to Hinata. “And you?”

Hinata grins and points to his chest proudly. “I’m bilingual.”

“What does that have to do with - Never mind. I don’t really care.” He looks around. There aren’t many people out yet, but the weather is nice and Sakusa feels a bit uncomfortable at even the prospect of a crowd. “But did we really have to meet up in a park?”

“First thing’s first!” Bokuto ignores him. “As the only one here in a real relationship, I appoint myself as the ace.”

Sakusa’s eyebrow ticks. “Didn’t Akaashi ask _you_ out?”

“Secondly!” he continues. “As the ace, I expect the right to be the best man at your wedding.”

The wind whips past them, ruffling the leaves at their feet and a few pieces of litter. Slowly, Sakusa processes what Bokuto just said and he feels like he’s tumbling with the breeze. “Forget it. I’m not interested in him anymore.”

“Bokuto-san and I worked hard on a good plan,” Hinata chirps, “but, if you really want to quit…”

“That’s right,” Bokuto adds. “There’s only one way to get better at something. As a professional athlete, you should be pretty familiar with practicing stuff, huh?”

He crosses his arms. “Then get to the point. I don’t have all day, and it’s cold.”

“Okay, okay.” Bokuto nods. “The first thing you gotta do: compliment him!”

Sakusa glowers. “Couldn’t I just move overseas and change my name instead?”

Hinata blows the whistle loudly then both Bokuto and Hinata make an X with their arms. Sakusa might actually die right here in a public park. He blames Miya Atsumu and his pouting face.

“Next: ask him about something he likes. It shows interest.”

Sakusa hums. “I’m not very good at conversation.”

“Better yet,” Bokuto adds, “just ask him out to somewhere he likes!” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Or maybe somewhere that makes you think of him?”

“So, like, the dump?”

Hinata huffs. “Omi-san, take this seriously!”

“I am.”

Hinata reaches into his bag. “Then you get a yellow card.”

“You’re _penalizing_ me?” Sakusa blinks in surprise as Hinata hands him the card. He isn’t sure why he even takes it, but he does. He’s never been penalized in his life. “What’s even the point of this?”

Bokuto blows his whistle until Sakusa covers his ears. “You’re having too much fun with this,” he mutters.

“Maybe so,” Bokuto concedes, “but let’s practice. Here. Pretend Hinata is Atsumu.” Hinata pushes his hair to one side and smirks with the same condescending glint that he’s come to associate with Miya Atsumu. “Now ask him out!”

“Yeah, _Omi-Omi,”_ Hinata sings in a terrible attempt at a Kansai accent, “ask me out.”

Sakusa stares up at the sky and curses every decision in his life that’s led him to this moment.

Hours later, Sakusa runs back into his apartment and double locks his door, exhausted both physically and mentally. He received two more yellow cards and one red throughout the rest of his ‘training’, and he doesn’t really feel any more prepared. As he crawls into bed, he sighs into his pillow as Atsumu’s pouting face worms its way into his thoughts again. He had no idea love was so exhausting.

.

“Good mornin’, boys.” Atsumu stumbles into the locker room a little past seven in the morning in an overlarge hoodie and bags under his eyes. He groans when he takes in Bokuto and Hinata already chatting animatedly to themselves. _“How_ are ya both so awake?”

“Tsumu!” Bokuto greets. “We were just wondering about you.”

“You’re late,” Sakusa points out.

Atsumu yawns. “Uh huh. Slept past my alarm.”

“You were _up_ late. Again.”

“What is this, an interrogation?” Atsumu mutters sleepily. “Gimme a minute to wake up before ya nag me, Omi.” He scratches his chest. “Gotta brush my teeth.”

Sakusa blanches. “You haven’t brushed your teeth?”

“I woke up late,” he defends. He fishes out a spare toothbrush and toothpaste from his locker then stumbles to the bathrooms, stifling another long yawn behind his sleeve. Sakusa watches him go. Pretends not to notice the way their eyes meet before Atsumu disappears from view.

“This is perfect!” Bokuto beams. “When he comes back, flirt with him.”

Sakusa almost chokes on his own tongue. _“What?”_

“You can do it, Omi-san! Just compliment him. Tell him he’s pretty!” Hinata puts a hand on Bokuto’s shoulders. “We’ll be right behind you the whole time!”

“This is ridiculous,” he hisses, but he doesn’t leave. He does put on a mask, though, because if Atsumu sees how red his cheeks are he might actually move to Europe and become a goat farmer named Peter. When Atsumu comes back, Hinata and Bokuto scramble to the other side of the room, hunching over Bokuto’s phone and pretending to laugh over some pickle meme.

“Funniest shit I’ve ever seen,” he catches Bokuto saying and then stops listening to them altogether.

Atsumu looks more awake as he ties his shoes, and Sakusa’s hands clench in his pockets as he approaches. “Don’t worry,” Atsumu says automatically, “I brushed my teeth in little circles and everything.” He grins up at Sakusa, waiting for a response, but Sakusa’s too nervous to do much other than glare. Atsumu’s hair is even messier than before, and he’s still wearing that stupidly big hoodie.

“You’re pretty,” Sakusa blurts, but the moment Atsumu’s soft brown eyes widen in surprise he instinctively adds, “annoying. You’re pretty annoying.”

Atsumu scoffs. “What the hell? I haven’t even done anything yet!”

Sakusa looks over his shoulder to appraise Hinata and Bokuto’s reactions. When they just stare at him, he raises a thumb.

Bokuto and Hinata frantically turn both their thumbs down.

“Okay, so that was a disaster,” Bokuto says cheerily when practice is starting up, “but don’t mind! We’ll get him next time.” Sakusa lays face-down on the gym floor, ignoring Bokuto and Hinata’s pity. He knows he’s terrible at this. He wasn’t built for dating or for crushes. Miya Atsumu is just a thorn in his side that he can’t get rid of.

“The good news is he had no idea you were trying to flirt,” Hinata supplies unhelpfully. “So no harm done.”

Sakusa hums, turning his head and seeking out Atsumu by pure habit. He’s talking with Thomas and Barnes as they warm up, laughing at something. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he dimly registers that he wants to make Atsumu laugh like that, too.

“He really is annoying,” Sakusa says, “but I’m not giving up yet.”

“Atta boy!” Bokuto cheers. Sakusa isn’t sure why they’re so invested in this, but he’s grateful. Even if he’ll never say it aloud. From the smiles Hinata and Bokuto give him, he has a feeling he doesn’t have to.

Still, sometimes he wishes they were just a _little_ less excited about it.

“Now,” Bokuto instructs, “when he asks about something, like your plans or your hobbies, say something cool and mysterious like, ‘That’s for me to know and for you to find out.’ Give him something to think about later.”

“Oh, that’s good!” Hinata points at Bokuto. “Do that!”

Sakusa is exhausted again. “Anything else?”

Hinata rubs his chin. “Well, Google said that all lasting relationships are based on trust. So, maybe, share some secrets with him.”

“Oh, yeah, I read that, too!” Bokuto agrees. “I showed Akaashi all my embarrassing selfies to show how much I trusted him. I never heard him laugh like that before.”

“Wait a minute,” Sakusa gapes, “are you guys seriously just Googling all of this as we go along?”

.

Atsumu considers himself to be pretty observant. When Bokuto and Hinata huddle around Sakusa and start whispering behind their hands, he takes immediate notice. It doesn’t really bother him, especially when Sakusa starts sitting next to Atsumu whenever they eat out or lingering behind after practice to walk home together. Atsumu notices all of it, but he doesn’t say a word. Not until Atsumu casually mentions going to the gym, and Sakusa shuts his locker and asks if he could come along.

Atsumu’s heart nearly leaps out of his throat. Bokuto and Hinata exchange quick glances as he nods and texts Sakusa the gym’s address. “Don’t be late,” is all Sakusa says, as if he’s the one that invited Atsumu out and didn’t just throw him through a loop.

“Did he just…?” Hinata blinks.

Bokuto nudges Atsumu and wiggles his eyebrows like that’s supposed to mean something to him. “What?” Atsumu is even more confused when Bokuto and Hinata just start smacking each other excitedly. “What?!”

“It’s nothing!” Hinata assures him. “We just really love fitness!”

Atsumu blinks. “I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but ya both need to find some new hobbies.”

It’s not until Atsumu is face to face with Sakusa Kiyoomi on a Sunday morning that the sirens go off in his brain. Sakusa rarely works out in public gyms, preferring the small one he put together in his apartment’s spare room to avoid people. But, today, Sakusa is willingly running on the elliptical next to him, mask on and eyes darting around the room like he’s already detailing an escape route.

Once, their eyes meet and Atsumu almost loses his balance, gripping onto the handlebars with a gasp. “Clumsy,” Sakusa taunts. He glances at the televisions. _“Chopped_ is on,” he adds in a somewhat interested tone, and the thought of Sakusa enjoying cooking shows is enough to actually send him toppling right off the elliptical and onto the floor with a grunt.

Sakusa makes no attempt to help, but he does stop and stare as Atsumu picks himself up. “Don’t tell Bokuto I fell,” he mutters, and he can’t be sure but he thinks Sakusa might be smirking behind his mask.

Later, as they’re wiping down the machines, Atsumu attempts to clear the awkwardness with, “So, uh, ya watch… the Food Network?”

Sakusa shrugs. “Sometimes.”

Atsumu nods, head spinning as he tries to associate Sakusa Kiyoomi with something that’s not volleyball. Or sanitizer. He settles for a smirk. “Wow. What else are ya hidin’ from me, Omi? Don’t tell me ya actually cook, too?” He gasps. “Do ya wear an apron? Or a hair net?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” Sakusa says in a way that makes Atsumu absolutely feel like he’s about to be flayed and barbecued.

(Two rows back, Hinata and Bokuto exchange a fist bump as they watch the date unfold from a safe distance on a pair of treadmills.)

Sakusa doesn’t say anything weird at practice, and Atsumu can almost convince himself that the entire weekend was a fever dream. But, two days later, Sakusa shows him a selfie of himself in a blue apron with a brown cartoon bunny on the chest.

Atsumu is horrified. His hands shake as they hover over Sakusa’s phone, wanting both to shield his eyes from how cute it is and wanting it as his background immediately. “Why?” he rasps. “Why would ya show me this?”

Sakusa pockets his phone. “You were the one that mentioned the apron.”

Atsumu wheezes. “I gotta tell someone about this!”

“Why?” Sakusa sounds genuinely confused. “No one will ever believe you.”

A bead of sweat rolls down Atsumu’s forehead. He’s not sure why, but Sakusa Kiyoomi is trying to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sakusa Week! For clear skin and a hearty harvest, don't forget to love and respect Sakusa Kiyoomi at least once a day.
> 
> To be continued!! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sakuatsu Day (10/7) !

“Now, this is a surprise. You rarely call me first, Sakusa.” The call’s other end is silent, but Komori can sense the waves of irritation through his phone. “What’s up?”

He hears a sigh. “I need a favor.”

Komori must’ve hesitated a bit too long because Sakusa sighs again, louder, and he gives a nervous chuckle. “I’ll certainly do my best. Is it about your receives?”

“No, it’s – what’s wrong with my receives?”

Whoops. “Nothing! Go on.”

“Never mind. Forget it. It’s not like it’s important.”

Komori resists the urge to hit his head against the wall. “You wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t at least a little important, so it’d probably be better to get it out.” He hums. “I mean, keeping all your feelings bottled up inside causes serious stress. You could get sick. And then I’d have to take you to the hospit–”

“Stop,” Sakusa begs in a strained voice. “Fine. I’ll talk.”

Sakusa’s too easy to predict, but Komori can’t say that his words don’t come from a place of genuine concern. Sakusa’s always been guarded. It’s better to err on the side of caution. Except when it comes to volleyball. Or when it becomes the only side he’s ever erred on. Komori’s never minded being the median for him. “Hey, I’m here. I’m listening.”

Sakusa takes a moment to gather his words. “It’s Miya.”

“Atsumu?”

“I asked him out.”

Distantly, Komori hears his neighbor’s cuckoo clock strike the hour. He takes a seat on his couch and whispers, “I’m sorry, what?”

“It didn’t really work.”

Komori’s head hits the back cushion. “On a date?”

“He didn’t know it was a date.”

“But, like, you asked him on purpose?” Komori places a hand on his chest. _“Atsumu?”_

“I’m hanging up.”

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry. Keep talking.”

Sakusa hesitates, but when Komori stays silent he continues, “Hinata and Bokuto figured me out, and they said they’d help me. But their idea of helping has been nothing but a circus.”

“I guess they can be pretty… excitable,” Komori agrees. “So, Atsumu didn’t realize you’d asked him out? How did you do it?”

“I just asked if I could go to his gym with him.”

“A public gym?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“No reason.” Komori is glad they’re on the phone. His smile spreads wider until his cheeks hurt. It used to be torturous for Sakusa to even practice in the school gym or use the lockers. Now he gets to go out with friends of his own. “Have I told you that I’m really proud of you lately, little cousin?”

“Ew,” Sakusa mutters. “Don’t start that.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, Atsumu didn’t realize what you meant, and he hasn’t picked up on any other signals you’ve been giving him. I didn’t peg Atsumu for the oblivious type.”

“He’s not,” Sakusa says readily. “He’s very observant. It’s just that he’s… also kind of an idiot.”

“Huh?”

“He thinks I’m trying to kill him or something.”

Komori chokes back a laugh, cheeks puffed out and eyes watering. “H-he probably just needs some time to process it,” he manages to wheeze out. “I’m sure it’ll turn out fine once he puts two and two together.” Sakusa doesn’t answer, but the silence isn’t as heavy anymore. Komori relaxes. “So, what was that favor you needed?”

The heaviness comes right back. Komori already regrets asking. A bit of interference breaks up Sakusa’s voice as he says, “I need you to talk to Suna Rintarou.”

“Oh my God.” Komori frowns. “You want me to ask Atsumu’s brother’s boyfriend if he thinks Atsumu likes you?”

“Don’t say it like that.” Sakusa huffs. “It sounds childish.”

“That’s because it is.” Komori groans. “That’s gonna be so awkward, Sakusa. We don’t really talk about our personal lives much. And what if he tells Osamu? You think he won’t tell his twin brother?”

“I’m aware of the risk,” Sakusa grumbles. Komori has to strain his ears to hear him. “But, what I’m doing doesn’t seem to be working so… I don’t mind taking that risk.”

“You really like him,” Komori muses. It’s not some new crush or fleeting interest. Sakusa’s thought about this. He’s prepared for this. Sakusa doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t need to. Not to Komori. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll talk to Suna-san on Monday.”

“Thank you.”

“But can I ask another question first?”

Sakusa hums.

“Why now? What made you decide to go after him now?”

“That’s… a little complicated.”

“Then enlighten me.”

.

Atsumu waves his hand idly at the man behind the counter. “Gonna need another round over here.”

“Ya sure? This is, like, the fourth one.”

“I can handle it. C’mon, Samu.”

Miya Osamu places his hands on his hips and fixes his brother with an exasperated stare. “D’ya really need to come here every time yer depressed about the national rankings? It bums out my customers.”

“This isn’t about my rankings.” Atsumu pouts. “S’not like those stupid numbers really matter anyways.”

“So Kageyama Tobio bein’ called the best server in the country doesn’t bother ya anymore?”

Atsumu grits his teeth, looking pained as he grips the counter, and shakes his head. “N-no.”

Osamu raises one eyebrow, but Atsumu doesn’t say anything else. Instead he busies himself with a bottle of soy sauce, reading the nutritional label as if it was a tabloid. His mouth twitches like he’s battling between his impulse to shout his true feelings and his desire to look like whatever issue he’s having doesn’t mean as much as it does. “Did’ja lose a game?”

Atsumu shakes his head again.

“New move not workin’ out?”

“Nah.”

Osamu starts to worry. “Is… is it about volleyball?”

Atsumu shrugs. “Not really.”

He slides a plate forward instantly. “Mentaiko,” Osamu says, gesturing to the onigiri. “Fair warning: I might’ve made it too spicy.”

As Atsumu takes his first bite, Osamu touches his chin in thought. What kind of problem can both be related to volleyball and _not_ at the same time? Did something happen at practice? Maybe a jab went too far? Or Atsumu finally got too bossy and got yelled at like a little kid? He’s too deep in his own head to notice Atsumu’s face looking redder and more horrified by the second.

 _“Hot!”_ Atsumu wheezes, watery eyes snapping wide open. “Water!” Osamu tosses him a bottle and Atsumu catches it desperately, throwing back half in one go. “Samu, what the fuck? Ya tryin’ to kill me, too? Don’t tell me yer in on this stupid joke!”

Osamu blinks. “Huh? What are ya talkin’ about?”

He drains the rest of the bottle and slides the plate away with a grimace. “It’s, uh… One of my teammates is actin’ pretty sus.”

“Stop sayin’ that word, and who?” When Atsumu doesn’t answer, Osamu squints at him. Then, the lightbulb blinks on, and he scoffs. “Is this about Sakusa Kiyoomi again?”

Atsumu points to the empty water bottle. “He gave me a water bottle durin’ practice, Samu. Totally unprovoked.”

“So obviously he wants to kill ya?”

“Obviously!”

Osamu runs a hand down the side of his face. “God, Sumu, I’m so sorry I absorbed all the brain cells before we were born.”

“Shut yer trap.”

“No. Has it crossed yer teeny brain that maybe he’s just bein’ nice?”

“Nice?” Atsumu coughs. “This is _Sakusa Kiyoomi._ Are ya kiddin’ me? He’s probably had enough of me beggin’ him for company on food runs or extra practices and decided to poison it or something.”

“Has he done anything else?”

“Yeah! And Hinata and Bokuto are in on it! Always smirkin’ and winkin’. Something’s up!”

“If Hinata and Bokuto _are_ mad, then they definitely caught ya slippin’.” Osamu leans his elbows on the counter. “What did ya do?”

“Nothing! I’ve been a goddamn saint ever since…”

Osamu glares. “Since what?”

Atsumu twiddles his thumbs, smiling nervously at the soy bottle. “Um. There was an incident.”

“An incident?”

“It’s kinda a long story.”

“Then how ‘bout ya start from the beginning?”

.

A few months back, the MSBY Black Jackals played a match against VC Kanagawa. It wasn’t a particularly unordinary game, but they still posed enough of a challenge for Atsumu to really get into it. The catalyst was Sakusa Kiyoomi, perfectly hitting every toss to the floor with a satisfying slam and the adrenaline pumping through Atsumu’s blood.

Despite popular legend, Atsumu does often think before he acts. It's just that sometimes the thrill of a good game just overpowers everything else and, therefore, he’s prone to momentary lapses of judgment. It's one of these moments that has Atsumu running across the court after a victory and slapping Sakusa Kiyoomi right on the ass.

The sound echoes across the suddenly too-quiet gymnasium. Atsumu feels like a tiny roach seeing the bottom of a boot looming above him, too shocked to run. He wasn’t targeting Sakusa on purpose. He just swung blindly. It’s like the stars aligned in the exact position to say, “Fuck you in particular,” and put Sakusa in swinging range.

When Sakusa turns, his dark eyes spark with sinister intent. Hinata and Bokuto stand on the sidelines of the horror, hands covering their mouths and eyes wide. Atsumu takes in a deep breath and looks up at the lights. He's lived a good life. It's a shame he didn't get to compete in the Olympics in a few years, but at least he's going out with a bang.

"He's dead," Inunaki's voice comes from somewhere.

"Someone get Meian."

But the moment of judgment never comes. Sakusa just glares at him, frozen and fuming at the same time. The silence weighs heavier and heavier with each second until it's too much to bear and Atsumu’s stream of frantic apologies falls on deaf ears.

"Omi-san?" Hinata calls cautiously.

Sakusa finally blinks. He glances at Hinata and Bokuto, who nervously hang onto each other, then back at Atsumu. "Miya," he growls. Atsumu nods gravely. "Get out of here."

Atsumu nods faster, biting his lower lip and fleeing from the gym so he can die alone in the locker room from pure embarrassment.

It's only ever referred to as 'the incident' and never talked about in great detail. Atsumu makes it a point to be more mindful of Sakusa's personal bubble of space. An invisible line encircles Sakusa, and Atsumu's instinctual desire to survive stops him before he can cross it. Hinata and Bokuto quickly learn to use this to their advantage, hiding behind Sakusa with puppy eyes whenever Atsumu really wants to strangle them for being disruptive.

But as the weeks pass, Sakusa doesn’t give him any indication that he’s angry so Atsumu decides to turn a new leaf and try keeping his mouth shut for a change. Sometimes, the same intense look crosses Sakusa's face, and Atsumu has to look away, face warm and heart pounding.

The effect doesn’t ever really fade. Even when Sakusa is ignoring him, Atsumu’s attention drifts to him anyways. For a bit, he’s able to convince himself that it’s simply guilt for overstepping a line he isn’t used to seeing. So, he makes more of an effort to be conscientious of Sakusa’s requests, Sakusa slowly unwinds, and Atsumu realizes he’s feeling much more than that.

It’s when Sakusa starts to join them for dinner. It’s when Sakusa shares his hand sanitizer with him before the food arrives. It’s when they walk the long way home with their arms brushing and pretending it didn’t happen at all. Atsumu would probably just walk around the block over and over again if it meant he could talk to Sakusa for just a bit longer, which is silly because they’ll see each other in the morning.

“And Samu was so scared to tell our mom that he was the one that broke the toaster tryna heat up a PopTart that I took the fall and she still brings it up.” Atsumu grins. “I like to bring that little story up whenever he gets too smug about bein’ a chef, though, and I - Uh, I’m talkin’ too much again, huh?”

Sakusa shakes his head.

Atsumu hates how happy that makes him so he lifts his chin and smirks. “Well, it’s not like I care anywa-”

“Why do you say that so much?” Sakusa interrupts. “That you don’t care about stuff? You weren’t like that in high school.”

“I was,” Atsumu answers easily. It’s a lot easier to talk about himself honestly when it was just them. While Atsumu was learning how to navigate Sakusa’s boundaries, he found his own walls crumbling brick by brick. “I guess I was just better at hidin’ it.”

“Hiding what exactly?”

He shrugs. “My brother liked to tease that I was the bad twin or that people didn’t like me. He never meant it or anythin’, but still… I guess I pulled away from people anyways.”

Sakusa blinks. “That was surprisingly self-aware.”

Atsumu laughs dryly. “C’mon, I’m not _that_ bad, am I?”

There’s a moment of silence, then Sakusa stops. Atsumu copies him, turning and jumping when he sees Sakusa looking at him seriously, intensely. “No,” Sakusa says firmly, “you’re not. And I wish you’d believe that enough to let your friends in more.”

Atsumu’s lips twitch into a nervous smile. “I think I just let you in. Does that mean we’re friends?”

Sakusa’s expression doesn’t change. He starts walking again, shoulders raising irritably as Atsumu chases after him with a laugh. “Omi!” Thoughtlessly, he places a hand on Sakusa’s shoulder and feels the muscles relax under his palm. “Just admit we’re friends!”

Sakusa shakes his head again, but Atsumu has learned that his eyes crinkle up just the tiniest bit when he smiles. He nudges Atsumu’s side with his elbow. “Are you looking for a medal or something?” Sakusa teases as he meets Atsumu’s gaze. His features are softened by the setting scarlet sun, cast in the same gold Atsumu sees in every dream.

“Always,” he breathes out.

.

Osamu laughs until it hurts and he has to cough to recatch his breath. “Ya smacked his what?”

“SAMU!” Atsumu slams his fists on the counter. “This isn’t funny! He’s a scary guy.”

“Please tell me ya at least apologized.”

“Of course I did! I’m not a heathen! He said it was fine, but he lies.”

Osamu wipes his eyes. “Wow. If ya got away with that, then maybe ya really do have a shot with him.”

“I _didn’t_ get away with it,” Atsumu hisses. “He’s obviously tryin’ to get revenge.” He groans, reliving the embarrassment of it all. “Just forget it.”

“Sorry. Can’t. I already told Rin I’d help.”

Atsumu lifts his gaze. “Huh? Sunarin?”

“Mmhm. Komori was askin’ questions about ya at practice, I guess.”

“Komori? Omi’s cousin?” He rubs his cheek. This is getting out of control. “Why would he get Sunarin involved? He’d have to know that Suna’d tell ya about it, so it must…” Atsumu gapes. A new fear pricks at the back of his mind. He stands up abruptly, fumbling for his bag and jacket. “I gotta go! Tell Sunarin to keep his nose outta my business!”

“Tell him yerself! This weekend, we’re all havin’ dinner, and don’t ya dare skip!” Osamu shouts after him. “Hey, where’re ya goin’?”

“Where else?”

“Yer not gonna do somethin’ stupid, right?”

“Me? Of course not.” Atsumu feigns a confident smile as he pushes open the door. “But, if ya never see me again, it was Omi in the gym with the candlestick.”

Osamu raises a hand. “I’ll let Colonel Mustard and Miss Scarlet know.”

Another thought crosses him as he steps out and he ducks back inside to beam at his brother. “Wait, do ya really think I have a shot with him?”

“Ya just said ya thought he was scary.”

Atsumu considers that and then shrugs. “I’m kinda into it.”

“Okay, that’s it. I’m chargin’ ya for all four of those onigiris.”

.

“Cheer up, Omi,” Bokuto says. “Tsumu wants to date you. I can sense these things. Ask Akaashi.”

Sakusa rolls his wrist, trying his best not to seem as agitated as he feels. He doesn’t want to think about Atsumu anymore. 

“You know,” Bokuto adds after a pause, “Akaashi and I didn’t get together for a long time because we both kept waiting for the perfect moment. But it turned out it just needed to be a simple one.”

Sakusa crosses his arms. “What are you saying?”

He shrugs. “Maybe it’s best to just tell him out right how you feel. Who cares when or how?”

“Tell him,” Sakusa considers. “That sounds really mortifying.” He glances at Hinata, who’s been quiet for a while.

“What if you wrote him a letter?” Hinata suggests finally. Bokuto nods eagerly.

“I’m not really good with words.”

Hinata throws up a pair of finger guns. “Leave it to me. Meet back at the gym later tonight.”

Sure enough, when Sakusa agrees to return to the gymnasium later that evening, Hinata is already inside holding a small white envelope with a pink heart sticker sealing it shut. Sakusa isn’t going to let this happen. “You actually wrote one.”

Hinata holds the letter in one hand and holds up his thumb with the other. Sakusa stares at Atsumu’s locker in dismay. “This really is like high school now,” he mutters.

“No, no, it’s cute,” Hinata assures him, brandishing the envelope. “And I promise he won’t know I wrote it. I used magazine clippings and everything so he won’t be able to trace my handwriting.”

“Wait.” Sakusa grabs his wrist. “That’s what you do for a ransom note, Hinata. You’re going to give him a heart attack.”

Hinata deflates. “Oh. Yeah, you’re right.” He frowns at the envelope and then snaps his fingers. “What if you sang him a song? People did that on the beach in Brazil all the time! I’ll teach you some Portuguese!”

“I’d rather give him the ransom note.”

Hinata lights up. “Really?”

Sakusa pinches the bridge of his nose. “No. But I’m not singing either. I’m just… Bokuto was right. I should just tell him that I like him. Out right.” He rolls his wrists, glancing at Atsumu’s locker with the horrible feeling that he might be sick. “It’s simple, right?”

Hinata smiles. “Yeah. Atsumu-san would probably appreciate that the most, anyways.”

Sakusa nods.

“So when are you telling him?”

“Whenever I see him, I guess.”

And, because the universe likes to pitch a perfect game, they hear the main doors open and freeze on the spot. “Did you tell Bokuto what time we were coming back?” Sakusa asks lowly.

Hinata shakes his head then lifts a hand to his ear. “Wait, do you hear that?”

_“Primadonna girl… Yeah… All I ever wanted was the world.”_

“Okay, that’s Atsumu,” Sakusa panics. “What’s he doing here? I thought he wasn’t allowed to have a key for the gym.”

“I gotta hide!” Hinata proclaims as the singing gets closer. “Quickly!”

“Why?” Sakusa rounds on him. “Are you serious?”

Hinata pulls open Bokuto’s unlocked locker and steps inside. “Yeah! What if Atsumu-san gets the wrong idea?” He waves the note in the air. “It’s fine! Just act normal!” And then he slams the door shut on himself and Sakusa fails to see the logic anywhere at all, but it doesn’t matter because Atsumu walks in with his AirPods in.

.

One of the benefits to being a professional player is being able to use the gym whenever he wants. Atsumu tries not to make it a habit of practicing on their days off, but he needs to let off some steam and clear his head a bit.

 _“Can’t help that I need it all,”_ Atsumu sings along and continues down the hall, twirling Hinata’s gym keys around his finger. He’ll give them back, eventually. His phone pings from a message from Suna that momentarily distracts him as he enters the locker room.

The last thing he expected to find was Sakusa Kiyoomi already inside, frowning at Bokuto’s locker. _“Got you wrapped around my finger, ba -_ AH.” Atsumu freezes. “Omi?!”

Sakusa glares as if by reflex. “Miya. What are you doing here so late? We don’t have practice today.”

Atsumu takes out his earbuds and chuckles. “I could ask ya the same thing, but the answer’s probably the same, huh?”

Sakusa doesn’t reply. His eyes trace the tension in Atsumu’s shoulders, and Atsumu hates how easily Sakusa can figure him out. “We have a game coming up,” he says. “Don’t overdo it.”

Atsumu scoffs. “Nice to meet ya, Mr. Pot. Ya can call me Mr. Kettle.”

“Can you just be serious for once? I swear you can be so-”

A small thud from inside Bokuto’s locker makes Sakusa fall silent. Atsumu glances at it for a moment then peers suspiciously at Sakusa. He’s definitely up to something.

“Fine,” Sakusa says roughly. “Okay. Let’s practice, then.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll practice with you.”

Atsumu points at him. “Yer actin’ weird.” In response, Sakusa’s face turns dark again. “S-stop lookin’ at me like that!” he begs. “Are ya really that mad at me?”

Sakusa glares harder. “No,” he forces himself to say. “I…”

"Then why are ya tryin’ to kill me?" Atsumu breaks. "Please, Omi, yer bein’ _nice_ and it's freaking me the hell out!" He shakes his head. "What do ya want? Money, an apology, blood?” Sakusa blinks at him. His face is never an easy read, but with his mask on he's completely blank. The silence eats at Atsumu until he lets out a groan and covers his face in frustration. “Okay, just… Are ya gonna take me out or not?”

"Dinner."

Atsumu peeks between his fingers. "What?"

“I was going to take you out,” Sakusa's eyes carry the same intense energy from before, dark and sparking, "to dinner."

He retreats until his back hits the lockers. “Did’ja lose yer mind?”

"Oh my God. Look, Miya, I’m about to say it. I don't care that you touched my ass."

Atsumu chokes, quickly grabbing at his chest and sputtering for air. He instinctively wants to deny it. He never touched Sakusa Kiyoomi's ass. He never looked at it. It doesn't exist. "OMI."

"Shut up. I don't care. I know you, idiot. You didn't do that on purpose. Or consciously, at least."

"B-but you… and touching… I thought...?"

"You don't," Sakusa's eyebrows furrow together, _"disgust_ me. Completely."

"Huh?"

“We touch all the time, you moron.” Sakusa looks away.

Atsumu thinks back to all their walks home - arms brushing, clapping his shoulder, jabbing elbows. “Really?”

"You're… passable. Face wise. And I've seen your bathroom so… I know you use… Good soap.”

"My face?" Atsumu touches his cheek. "My soap?" Then, it clicks. "Hold on a goddamn minute! Did ya just ask me out?"

Sakusa doesn't answer.

Atsumu lets out a shocked croak. "Well, ya've finally done it. Ya've killed me."

"I'm serious."

"So am I!" Atsumu yells, face burning. He covers his cheeks. He can't look at Sakusa, but he can feel his eyes on him. They're always coming back to him. "Oh, God, Omi, how long have ya liked me? Wait! Don't tell me!" He lowers his hands. "No, tell me."

Sakusa huffs. "Do you want me to tell you or not?"

"Yes! WAIT, NOT YET!" He waves his hands desperately. Sakusa closes his eyes in frustration so Atsumu takes a steadying breath and tries to steady his pounding heart. "Okay, go."

Sakusa opens his eyes. "Second year."

"Of V.League?"

He stays quiet, but Atsumu hears the answer anyway.

"High school!?" Atsumu shakes his head. "Oh, I… I need to sit down. Really? High school? Shut the fuck up. That's so cool."

"I knew you'd be like this." Sakusa sighs. "That's why I didn't say anything. You always overreact."

"Uh, yeah!" Atsumu smirks. "But ya _like_ me anyway, don'tcha?" Sakusa glares and takes one exaggerated step toward the door. “Don’t leave!” Atsumu rises off the bench with his arms raised like he’s trying to soothe a frightened deer. "I still haven't given my answer yet!"

Sakusa fidgets, but he stays. "I didn’t ask you for it."

"Even so," Atsumu puts his hands on his hips, "isn't that what people do? They talk about their feelings or whatever."

Sakusa scoffs. "How am I supposed to know how any of this works?"

He smiles. "I do like ya, Omi. A lot."

Sakusa looks away. Atsumu catches the blush riding high on his cheeks. "That's cool," he mutters and, oh, Atsumu really does like him.

"I don't know how any of this works either," Atsumu admits. "I didn't exactly have time to think about it before."

"Me neither," he pauses, "but here we are."

"Yeah. Kinda sucks, doesn’t it?"

"It’s horrible. What do we do about it?"

Atsumu winks. "I believe dinner was mentioned."

Sakusa's posture softens. For the first time, Atsumu feels like they finally understand each other. He nods. "Miya," he says when Atsumu makes for the door, stopping him in his tracks, "if you ever touch my ass in front of the others again, I'll break up with you."

Atsumu laughs. “If ya ever involve Bokuto or Hinata in our relationship again, I’ll break up with _you.”_

“Deal.” They begin to walk out and Sakusa stops midstep. “Oh, wait. I almost forgot.” He calls over his shoulder, “Hinata, you can come out of the locker now. We’re leaving.”

“Thank you,” Hinata’s tiny voice echoes out from Bokuto’s locker.

“SHOYO?!”

“Hi, Atsumu-san! Congratulations!”

Atsumu grabs onto Sakusa’s shoulder and makes a retching noise.

.

Hinata lays on the gym floor. He’s tired, but not because of volleyball. Akaashi is talking animatedly to Bokuto about an upcoming manga he’s editing for while Atsumu keeps glancing between them and Sakusa. “Omi,” he hisses, “they’re winning.”

Sakusa sighs. “What?”

“Bokkun and Ji-Ji.” Atsumu puts his hands on his hips. “Look at them. They’re cute and horrible. I can’t stand it.” He pouts. “They’re not worse than us, though, right?”

“Oh my God,” Sakusa mutters, sounding utterly pained. “Atsumu, I promise that there is no relationship worse than this one.”

If Hinata had a boyfriend and that boyfriend just called their relationship the worst, he thinks he would cry. Atsumu, however, beams. “Mean it?”

“I really do.”

“Aw, Omi-Omi, are ya blushin’?”

“Get away from me,” is what Sakusa says, but he doesn’t move as Atsumu places a hand on his shoulder and smiles up at him. Even with Sakusa’s dark expression, Hinata can see the blush on his cheeks from across the court.

Hinata tunes them out, smiling as he picks himself off the floor. Practices with the Black Jackals are far louder and busier than they were when he first joined the team. It reminds him of home. After practice is over, and they’re ready to leave, Hinata finds himself feeling a bit nostalgic. “Hey,” he calls over to them all, “after practice, let’s all get pork buns.”

“I thought we were getting ramen,” Atsumu protests.

“No way. It’s Whopper Wednesday.” Bokuto wraps an arm around Akaashi’s shoulder. “We’re going to Burger King.”

“What’s wrong with the diner?” Sakusa interjects.

“My treat,” Hinata adds enticingly and the others fall silent before agreeing. There’s no stronger lure than the promise of free food. “Great!” He wraps his scarf around his neck. “Last one out the door gets a yellow card. And… Go!”

“Cheater!” Atsumu chases after him. “Hey! Shoyo!”

“RUN, AKAASHI!”

“Bokuto-san, watch my glasses…!”

“It’s icy,” Sakusa shouts over them, “slow down!”

Hinata laughs as he rounds the corner. It feels good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support! :) Title is from the Queen song because the ending lines, "And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves" made me think of sakuatsu while chopping celery and somehow that led to this nonsense.
> 
> On [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostystarr) now! :)


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